


Gold Dust Girls

by Marionette_Voyager



Category: Original Work
Genre: Bisexual Female Character, Bisexuality, F/F, Fantasy, LGBTQ Character, Supernatural Elements, teen
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-01-01
Updated: 2015-01-01
Packaged: 2018-03-04 18:51:54
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,550
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3082784
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Marionette_Voyager/pseuds/Marionette_Voyager
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Hayley Watson finally got the guts to break up with her boyfriend. But when she finally goes to do it, she's interrupted by the sight of a beautiful, mysterious girl dragging a man into an alley. When she follows and sees something she wasn't supposed to, Hayley finds herself caught in a deal with the princess of the Underworld, Lux. The rules are simple-- assist in collecting the souls of human who tried to run out on deals with the King, and she gets to continue living in the real world. However, juggling college courses, friends, and a very concerned ex-boyfriend with being an eternal servant of the Underworld is much harder than anticipated. Things become even more complicated when a cult dedicated to eradicating Death pops out of the woodwork, determined to hunt down and destroy Lux through Hayley. How is a girl ever supposed to catch a break?</p>
            </blockquote>





	Gold Dust Girls

**Author's Note:**

> Hello, friends and anyone else who has decided to check this out! A few things to start off. One, this is a total first draft. I am posting it here to get objective criticism (hopefully some from strangers?). If you're into posting what you're doing on AO3 on Goodreads, PLEASE DO NOT POST THIS THERE. I have plans to turn this into a real life book some day, and I'd prefer it stay as contained as possible, especially in this early stage. Two, please criticize me. Seriously. I need it. That's pretty much it. I hope you enjoy~~
> 
> Each chapter title is a song lyric that relates to the chapter. This chapter's title is from the song "Daendors", by Saintseneca.
> 
> "Gold Dust Girls" is also a working title, inspired by the song "Gold Dust Woman" by Fleetwood Mac.

 

            _I have to break up with Grant. I have to. Break up with. Grant. IhavetobreakupwithGrant._ I had thought this so many times over the past few months that it had become some kind of weird mantra. Test didn’t come back as expected? _I have to break up with Grant._ Good hair day? _I have to break up with Grant._ Coffee is kind of weak? _I have to_ — well, you get the point. The point is, I knew I had to do it about four months before I finally did the deed. Everyone knew, except him. My best friend Cass, the gender-defying wunderkind I had met my senior year of high school and held onto fiercely as my best friend, claimed they had known two weeks in that Grant and I were never going to work. But it was high school, and real life hadn’t caught up with me yet. We were going to the same school! We had similar interests! He was sensitive!

            My friends have always hated my taste in men, so it was no surprise to see Cass scoff at every defense I threw up about Grant. The thing was, there wasn’t anything particularly _wrong_ with him. Even now, with my months-long mantra echoing in my head, the thought of his face when I finally mustered the courage to do it was enough to stop me. Grant was (is) a perfect specimen of high-school-gone-to-college boyfriend. He remembers enough of the stuff from before we came to the cutesy, bustling city of Ann Arbor, Michigan to keep me grounded. He’s a flavor of old in my world of new. And that old flavor had grown increasingly stale over the past few months.

            I will say this though— if my friends had known what my taste in women was going to be like, they might not have minded Grant or my other ex-boyfriends so much. Sorry, that makes the whole thing seem really melodramatic. Let me explain what I’m really trying to get at, because this story isn’t about me and Grant. Nope. This is actually the story of how I accidentally fell head over heels in love with the queen of the Underworld.

            Shit. That didn’t really make it less dramatic, did it? Let’s try again. From the top.

            I had decided to break up with Grant on a Friday afternoon, to give myself the weekend to feel bad and move on. I had meticulously finished all of my homework in preparation for this bomb going off in my life. I also decided to do it in public, hoping to avoid too big of a scene. Unfortunately, he was never going to see this coming, and he was probably going to cry or yell, so I chose a nice vegetarian place we had eaten at a lot in our first year here, hoping the good memories would sooth this very bad one. This was very naïve of course, but I’m nineteen. I’m not a genius.

            On the way to the café, I was repeating my well-worn mantra, trying not to freak out. I knew this was the best option. But I was still scared as hell that it was a mistake. Grant and I had been together since junior year, when I had found him near the trees at our school, attempting to coax a squirrel out of a tree with a piece of Clif bar. It had turned into a bout of teasing and understanding, discovering we were both vegetarians who wished they were vegans, who both felt out of place in a high school world. Toss in your John Green clichés because they were scattered all over. I get annoyed even thinking about it. And here we were, a year into college, and it hadn’t necessarily gotten worse. It just wasn’t better. It was unchanging. I felt like he loved a version of me that wasn’t quite me. And I _had_ to break it off before it became any harder.

            I was so engrossed in thought on my walk that I ran directly into someone, scattering my bag. Ignoring the bag, I turned to apologize and was caught off guard. The girl in front of me was gorgeous. Like jaw-drop-drag-me-away-please gorgeous. She had dark brown skin and the most amazing curly black hair that cascaded down her back. She was tiny, but looked like she could probably kill someone if she felt like it. I felt myself stammering out an inane apology and laughing too much. She smiled graciously, but it looked like it didn’t quite fit.

            “It’s fine, it’s fine.” She said, the cadence of her voice slightly clipped. It sounded like she was unsure of herself.

            I started gathering things back into my bag, my planner, my wallet, pens— “Wait!” the girl cried, scrambling to grab a pen I had almost shoved in my bag. “That’s mine.”

            “Oh.” I replied, startled. “Sorry.”

            “You know how it is…favorite pens.” She laughed uneasily, and I wondered what her problem was.

            “Totally.” I answered, nodding sagely.

            She turned to go and I couldn’t just let her waltz away. I was transfixed. “Hey, wait!” I said, grabbing her arm. She froze, and something flicked across her face I didn’t understand.

            “Yes?”

            “Let me make it up to you. I feel bad. You’re not hurt, right?”

            “All is well.” She answered in that same old-timey clip. It seemed like a show. “Nothing to make up.”

            I wasn’t listening. I dug out my own pen, and tore a chunk of paper out of my planner, scrawling my phone number on it. “I have to do something. But maybe later, we could get coffee?”

            To date, this is possibly the ballsiest thing I have ever done. I couldn’t believe it myself, honestly. She looked at the proffered paper as if it were some strange artifact, considering. After a long pause that threatened to be awkward, she accepted it. “I will be in contact.” And then she bounced away. I looked down at my hand, which had briefly brushed hers, flushing furiously. When I looked back up, she had completely disappeared.

            I know what you’re thinking. It’s bad form to try and get a date on your way to break up with your boyfriend. But I was reasoning with myself that _coffee_ is not a date and anyway who even knew what this girl thought about other girls, who even knew if she was going to text (call?). With a sigh, I realized I hadn’t even told her my name, and she hadn’t told me hers. I felt really stupid, and decided I should just put the whole thing out of my mind. I had to do something. _I have to break up with Grant._

            By the time I showed up at the café, he was already there, seated at an outside table, sipping coffee. I sat down, nervous and agitated. This was the least fun thing I could have ever imagined. He had ordered our favorite sandwiches, and when I sat down, the waitress brought me a coffee too. It hurt, how well he knew me, how painfully oblivious he was. I sipped my coffee, and after a silent few minutes, he spoke.

            “So, what’s up?” he asked, cheerful as always. I felt like I was about to kick a puppy in the stomach.

            Setting my mug down, I took a deep breath. “Grant, I’m not sure if you know this, exactly, but I haven’t felt like things are going…well. Lately. I just… I’m not sure this is…working.”

            Yep. There is was. Kicked puppy look. Fuck.

            “Hayley,” he said, very serious, “wait. Where is this coming from? We just…we just saw the Arctic Monkeys.”

            He was grasping for normalcy, and while I couldn’t blame him, I wouldn’t have picked that as the obvious sign of how well our relationship was going. “I don’t like the Arctic Monkeys.” I reminded him gently. “I went because you didn’t want to go alone.”

            Grant stared at me as if this was brand new information and I hadn’t spent the whole way there bemoaning the fact that I was missing Dessa at a tiny bar downtown for him. Which was kind of mean, but again, I’m not a genius.

            “I still can’t believe you don’t like them.” He mumbled, and I realized I was truly going to have to say the words aloud for him to get it. I steeled myself.

            “I think we should break up, Grant.” There. It was done and out in the open after months of torture and doubt. No going back.

            “Seriously. Hayley. Where is this coming from?” he pleaded, pained. “Everything is great!” He gestured wildly with his sandwich, attempting to demonstrate _how_ great.

            “They aren’t great for me.” I said back, trying not to let the anxiety bubbling inside me take over. Now was not the time for bitch Hayley to take over. I really didn’t want it to end that way. “I feel like…you have this idea of me. Or like I’m this accessory. And you don’t really see what’s really happening or who I really am.”

            “We could…we could figure that out.” He said. “I wanted to marry you.”

            Shit. There it was. The exact wrong thing to say, the exact thing that he clearly thought would soften me, but instead it just made me angry. The anxiety turned to annoyance, and I couldn’t help what I said next. “For Christ’s sake Grant, you can’t even pick your classes for next semester. How on earth could you pick someone to marry?”

            He stared at me long and hard, and fired back, “That is not fair.”

            Which was again, the wrong thing to say. Months of irritation came to mind, and we began to bicker. Normally, I would have been petrified of anyone overhearing, but I couldn’t stand how fucking dense he was anymore. He had to know that I wasn’t happy, and he couldn’t magically change it. As I was about to deliver my final blow, something caught my eye, across the street.

            It was the girl from before, that all black outfit stark against the sunny streets of Kerrytown. She was with a man, and I felt a spike of disappointment run through me. But then I noticed he did not look happy. For a moment, I was thrilled. Break up twins! –thumbs up emoji- She would definitely call! Then, a lot different from my situation, she socked him right in the gut. I gasped, which was lost on Grant, who was in the middle of pontificating on the first time we saw the Front Bottoms and how we swore we would be forever. She started dragging the man into the alley.

            “Grant, wait, stop, did you see that?” I hissed.

            He rolled his eyes, “See what?”

            “That girl, she just…she just punched…”

            “Can we not get off topic?” he snapped. “Seriously, you’re breaking my heart here, could we focus on that?”

            I had to know what was going on. My new dream girl was…mugging someone? Murdering someone? Who knew? No one appeared to have noticed. Why was I the only one who noticed? “I’m sorry, Grant.” I said, meeting his eyes, truly apologetic. “I have to go.”

            I threw my wallet in my bag and dashed away, leaving him sputtering and confused. I would text him later and explain, I swore to myself. This was not how I wanted to end things with him. I would fix it. Kind of. Really. I thought he would follow, but once I stepped into the alley, it seemed as if the sound from the street faded.

            The girl didn’t notice me, but the man did. He was on his knees pleading when he saw me, fixing his eyes on me in desperation. I realized I had to say something. “H-Hey!” I called.

            She whirled around, obviously completely surprised. I was caught off-guard by her beauty _again_ (embarrassing), and she asked, “How did you get here?”

            “You’re, uh, you’re in a public alley?” I answered, unsure. “I saw you across the street. You hit him. What’s…uh, what’s going on?”

            “Nothing a mere _mortal_ could understand,” she spat theatrically in that same uncertain voice.

            I couldn’t keep a straight face. “I… _what_?” I giggled

            “Don’t laugh at me.” She snapped, clearly annoyed.

            My fear had faded a little. It didn’t seem like she knew what to do. “So, is this some weird sex thing?” I jibed.

            The man on the ground pleading looked as confused. “Is this part of the end of my deal?” he asked.

            “Dude!” I yelled, my eyes darting to him. “I’m not part of any _deal_.”

            “Look,” the girl said, exhaling hard through her nose. “You’re seeing something you shouldn’t be seeing, human child. You know nothing of weird. Leave. Immediately.”

            “So this is like, a roleplay…thing.” This was so bizarre. My first thought was that I couldn’t wait to tell Grant, but then I remembered he probably wasn’t going to be interested in how my crush was some weird sex mistress.

            I was frozen though. After a long hard stare, the girl took out the pen I had almost taken earlier, and clicked it. It popped out of her hand, extending into— I kid you not— a whole scythe. I had seen it levitate. Suddenly the fear returned, icy and persistent. “Oh my god, are you the Grim Reaper?” I squeaked.

            She stopped, looking at my quizzically. “What? No. Why…I don’t even look like…” she stopped, sighing heavily again. When she spoke, it was with the theatrical voice. “This is none of your business. I will return for you when I have finished with him.” She shot a mean glance towards the man, who had been trying to inch away.

            Using the scythe, she drew a circle on the alley wall, which became a gaping black hole. In plain view, she hopped through, dragging the man along with her. I stared for a minute, until the hole closed up. Then, after I realized I could hear noise from the street again, I exclaimed: “What. The. Fuck.”

            I was tingling with excitement. She was totally going to text me. From…wherever the hell she had just gone. Hell? Actual literal hell? I didn’t care. The fear still crawled up and down my spine, an icy chill I couldn’t shake, but I was also _excited_. Which was completely the wrong response to have. Watching a man get dragged to hell was not supposed to make your panties wet.

            The only thing that made sense was to return to the restaurant, and hope my sandwich was still there. So I did. And it was. I apologized to the waitress, and asked if Grant had paid for the sandwich. True till the end, he had. She refilled my coffee, and brought me a slice of cake. “On the house.” She said with a wink. “Break ups suck.”

            She was an angel. I couldn’t help being thrilled that later I would see my mystery girl again. I just needed to remember— Text Grant. Fix it, just enough to make him not hate me. Everything was going to be just fine. Maybe this wasn’t such a bad day after all.


End file.
